Her Reality
by Torsades1991
Summary: Ariadne thinks about dreams, nightmares, and falling in love.  One shot.


**Disclaimer:** Sadly, I do not own Inception nor the characters. However, I do ENJOY Inception and it's characters - therefore, I write fan fiction :) Hope you enjoy it! It is dedicated to my favorite person - Lexi, I love you!

It could be so unbelievably real - the world of a dream. So easily can one find one's self completely and utterly enthralled by a dream's beauty. Mesmerized and enchanted by landscapes and places too perfect to have even been imagined while awake. From the farthest recluse of your mind, the deepest abyss of your soul, thoughts and feelings are pulled to create the dream world. In dreams, you are allowed the privilege of escaping the cruelties and imperfections of the real world - dancing away to an unnamed land of ethereal illusions. Hopes and fantasies play out before you, your deepest desires revealed by your subconscious. There is, however, the unfortunate circumstance, the every-so-often appearance, of nightmares…

Mystical and majestic dreamscapes turn wickedly into nightmares - overpowering the dreamer with the most unpleasant emotions and feelings. Dark visions of hellish places and animalistic, cold apparitions lurk in the corners. Within the snares of the nightmare, the phantasm holds you captive to only torment and torture. You wonder how it can seem so endless. How can the most unbearable nightmares seem to be everlasting, while the warmth of the sweetest dream is evanescent? All one can do is pray, hope that the cold tendrils of the nightmare will soon relinquish their grasp - that consciousness will soon regain.

Ariadne was very familiar with the notions of nightmares and dreams, knowing more than most individuals. On this particular night, sleep was not of easy coming. Merely the night after their recent "job", Ariadne was still experiencing the emotional and physical stress. Regularly, she would reach to the nearby nightstand and gently finger her Bishop. Her heart racing, pounding wildly in her chest each time, she was gripped with the fear that she might still not be living a reality. Sleeping in a hotel room, wrapped in sheets of strange material, engulfed with the scent of cleaning products and room freshener, she was surrounded with unfamiliarity. Laying on her back, Ariadne stared blankly at the ceiling. With tired eyes she lay in hope that she would soon succumb to a dreamless sleep. However, her attention was constantly drawn away from any object of focus by yet another unfamiliar sensation. Again, she took note of the warm feeling provided by the figure beside her. Smiling to herself, Ariadne turned slightly to take in the sight. Laying comfortably facing her, with tousled hair and sleep-touched features, was Arthur. His clothes made rid of long ago, his naked body was covered by only the light fabric of the hotel bed sheet. Moonlight shone in through the drawn back window shades, leaving a pure trail of light that kissed his pale skin. In the illumination, his lithe figure was without any blemish. Ariadne let her eyes wander over Arthur, allowing herself to reminisce about their evening together. With guilty pleasure she remembered the erotic pleasure of it all. Emotions, tensions, and desires all released in the most passionate of love-making. Perfection.

Ariadne turned and rested on her side, facing the man with whom she believed herself to be falling in love. So little time had they spent together…so few weeks in each other's presence…and yet so much they had shared. They had _shared dreams together_. Putting trust in one another, they had built worlds together. They had done, in reality, what most people only say with metaphorical or symbolic meaning. Ariadne felt a connection of the deepest level with Arthur. After all they had been through, after everything, how could she not love him? Pondering what choices she would have to make in the future, what journey she could possibly end up embarking upon, left her reeling. However, none of the inevitable tribulations of life seemed at all taxing to her - so long as Arthur would be at her side. Resting her head close next to him, Ariadne settled herself as near to Arthur as possible, letting her nose touch his and her lips rest barely inches from his own. Inhaling, she let herself be filled with the intoxicating scent of him. The lingering scent of his cologne mixed tantalizingly with the smell of her perfume, creating an aroma that tickled all of her senses. Looking at him for quite some time, she memorized his handsome features before closing her eyes to sleep. No memory of distant terrors could touch her. No wisps of fear swept over her or grasped at her mind. There were no tears welling or threatening to spill at the remembrance of recent events. None of these things were of worry to Ariadne as she drifted to sleep - because she was wrapped in the comfort Arthur. Her body pressed against his, Ariadne was overwhelmed by the pure bliss that was Arthur - and Arthur was reality.

**Author's Note: **Thank you for reading! Please review :)


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